


Tutoring Reilly

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Furry (Fandom), Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Comeplay, Gags, Hand Jobs, M/M, Scent Kink, Size Difference, Size Kink, Socks, Sweat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 01:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8307931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Timothy honestly just thought he was going to be giving Adrian Reilly some well-needed tutelage - he had no idea of Reilly's actual plans for the afternoon.





	

Timothy teeters on his toes as he waits on Adrian Reilly’s doorstep, a stack of books held in his hands. The lion had all but _demanded_ that Timothy offer him tutelage this weekend, and by no means is Timothy reluctant to be here – Reilly is an inside centre for the local rugby team, and he’s built like a forklift truck, with a thick, golden mane around his head and a savage smile that makes Timothy _melt_ inside.

Timothy’s mother had always warned him he ought to stay away from big predators, but he knows for a fact she’d dated a hyena when she was in high school, so he won’t bow to her hypocrisy.

“If it isn’t my favourite bunny rabbit,” says a low voice as the door comes open, and Reilly leans against the wall, looking down at him. Reilly’s father is a property merchant, and that’s why he has a house to himself for university – no one else Timothy knows in Dublin is staying in a house on their _own_ , not for university. “You hear to help me study?”

“Hi,” Timothy hears himself squeak as he nods his head rapidly. His ears twitch as he lingers on the doorstep: he can hear Reilly’s breathing and the beating of his big, muscled heart, and inside he can hear the thrum of his laptop fan and the slight electric sing of the lightbulbs, but _then…_ He can hear something else, coming through tinny laptop speakers. It sounds almost like… “Were you watching porn!?”

Reilly laughs.

“Still am.” Reilly grabs him by the front of his shirt and pulls him inside, throwing the front door closed. Timothy is a tall rabbit, and Reilly is only taller than him by a head, but the lion’s muscles are thickly layered on his arms and legs and shoulders, and he must be three or four times Timothy’s breadth. “You don’t really think I asked you here to help me with psychology, did you? Little Tim, I’m a _great_ student. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Timothy clutches the three textbooks in his hands as he walks into Reilly’s living room, and Reilly picks up a TV remote and flicks it towards the huge television mounted on one wall of the room. The tinny, quiet moaning becomes immediately louder and echoes around the room, and Timothy feels his mouth open slightly as he stares at the bodies on the screen.

A rabbit is pinned between two tigers, and he’s crying and wriggling and whimpering as they spear him open. Their cocks are _huge_ , and Timothy feels his tongue dry out slightly as he stares at the screen and feels the _noise_ of the rabbit and his two captors ringing in his ears.

“Uh,” Timothy says. “Are you- do you maybe have me confused with someone else?”

“That arse of yours is unforgettable, Tim,” Reilly murmurs, and when he grins he shows all of his teeth: it makes Timothy shudder. “I know _exactly_ who I’ve got. You wanna fuck?”

“You’re sure you don’t need to study?” Timothy asks in a wavering voice, trying to stop himself from dropping to his knees _right now_. “Because I really-” Reilly leans down slightly, until they’re nose to nose, until Timothy’s sensitive nose is twitching with the scent of musk and cocoa cologne buried in Reilly’s fur, until all Timothy sees, hears, and breathes is Adrian Reilly.

“The only thing I wanna study, Tim, is that little hole of yours. I don’t need _grinds_ , mate, I need _to_ grind.” Timothy breathes in, slowly. He supposes he’s given up enough token protest to not feel responsibility if Reilly fails the exam on Thursday, and-

Well. Hasn’t he wanted to shag Reilly for a while?

“Alright,” Timothy hears himself say, and he drops the textbooks aside. He shifts forwards, standing close to Reilly and leaning up towards him to catch him in a kiss, but the lion grips him tightly by the throat.

“Oh, nah,” Reilly says, laughter obvious in his voice. “You do like _I_ say, little bunny.”

“I’m not little, Adrian,” Timothy objects, and then Reilly’s other hand is grasping him through the stiff fabric of his chinos, thumbing over his crotch.

“Yeah, you are,” Reilly says decisively, and he lets Timothy go. “Clothes off.” Timothy pulls at his clothes, wriggling out of his chinos and unbuttoning his shirt. Both he starts to fold and put aside, but Reilly laughs and grabs him by the shoulder. He kisses Timothy hard, pushing him towards the couch and throwing him down there. “Hands up.”

Timothy giggles a little, and he puts his hands up, mockingly, as if he’s doing it for a cop.

And Reilly cuffs his wrists to the decorative lattice board on the wall behind the sofa.

This should scare him, really, freak him out, but it just makes him even hotter, and he hisses out a little noise, leaning back against the sofa and spreading his legs as wide as he can. Reilly leans down, dragging his tongue over Timothy’s half-hard cock, and Timothy groans. Reilly truly goes to work with his tongue, and Timothy hears the quiet _clack_ of the lubricant’s bottle as the lion opens it.

Reilly preps him quickly, spreading him wide, and Timothy thrusts himself back onto Reilly’s paw.

“God, this is so hot,” Timothy says, closing his eyes tightly and rolling his hips down in quick little movements. He can’t believe this is happening, can’t believe he’s actually getting this, getting _Adrian Reilly_. “Can’t wait to feel your cock in me, you’re so huge, can’t-“

“Shut up,” Reilly orders crisply, and his tone makes Timothy _squirm_.

“I just wanna tell you how much I-” Timothy lets out a sharp noise of surprise as something thick and heavy presses into his mouth: his nostrils are full of the heavy, musky scent, and in his mouth he tastes salt and he tastes musk and he tastes _cotton_. Reilly has just shoved one of his _rugby_ socks into Timothy’s mouth, and Timothy’s so turned on he feels like he’s going to explode. His cock is bobbing against his belly, and he can feel the head of it slick with his own precome, soaking wetly into the soft fur of his belly – he watches Reilly as the lion leans backwards, spreading more lubricant over his own cock.

Reilly’s cock is a masterpiece.

Timothy has to heave breaths in through his nose as he presses his back into the cushions of the sofa, having to bite down into the dry, salty fabric stuffed into his mouth and heavy on his tongue; Reilly’s cock is huge, thick and heavily veined in its place, and as he spears Timothy open, slowly, slowly – and God, Timothy feels like he’s just _slightly_ too dry. Reilly is so thick inside him that Timothy spreads wide, God, he feels like he’s got a _bull_ inside him, not just a lion.

He breathes in through his nose as much as he can, trying to fill his lungs as Reilly stuffs him full, and he does his best to curl his legs tightly around the lion’s thickly muscled, powerful thighs, tilting his hips up and into it.

Reilly chuckles lowly, and then he grunts as he begins to thrust, pulling back and then _slamming_ forwards. With each thrust, his balls make an obscene slap not against the soft fur of Reilly’s backside, but against the leather of the couch underneath it, and Timothy whines as much as he can around his makeshift gag.

Reilly fucks him hard and fast and wild, fucks him like he’s nothing but a tied-up toy underneath him, and Timothy relaxes into it like he was _born_ for this. He hears the soft, slick noises inside him as Reilly pulls back and then thrusts again, pulls back and thrusts, pulls back and thrusts. Timothy could die here _completely_ content, speared on a lion’s cock.

It doesn’t take long at all for Reilly to come, and when he does Timothy whines his disappointment, because Reilly pulls away and he feels so fucking _empty_. Wetness pulses heavily and thickly inside him, and when he pulls back he feels it _drip_ from him, feels it heavy and wet inside him, and he _hears_ the tiniest **drip** of a drop of it onto the leather.

“ _Mmmf-_ ” Timothy demands wordlessly with a thrust of his hips into the air, and Reilly chuckles. He puts one of his big paws forwards, and with the underside of a single claw, he traces the slightly thin parts of the fur on Timothy’s sheathe, tracing over where the raphe is underneath the fleshy skin. Timothy chokes around cotton and day-old sweat.

“Just give me a second, little bunny,” Reilly murmurs. He reaches over Timothy, grasping at his phone from the sill behind him, and he looks at the screen. Timothy manages to see, with straining eyes, that he’d gotten a text message. “Heh. I will be… Right back.”

Reilly strides out of the room, cock swinging out of the unbuttoned crotch of his jeans, and he leaves Timothy tied in his place.

“’H, G’d,” Timothy mumbles, and he closes his eyes.

He pretends, in vain, that he isn’t excited, and that he isn’t ready for more of whatever Reilly has planned for him.


End file.
